FINALLY

Correct me if I’m wrong, but last week was dead week, which can only mean this week is finals week? As I typed those words, a demonic chorus played in my head and I imagined all of my professors gathered around a boiling cauldron, going through my final tests and papers with blood-red ink and casting spells on me. I’m not accusing any professors of satanic withcery, but I do have my suspicions. After dead week, and surely after finals week, I might really enjoy being burned at the stake. Better to die trying (even if it is with the help of the dark arts) than to live as a failure. Again, I have no idea how I’ve gotten this far into an imaginary scenario–I really do need to work on staying on topic. So for finals, yours truly has two tests, a paper, and a report coupled with a presentation over the topic of my choosing. I know it will all be okay if I study, but where there’s an easily distracted 19 year old trapped in a library there’s always a a copy of the New York Times from 1863 within arm’s reach, and it’s probably really lonely and needs a friend.

Like Mormons, I refuse to do cocaine. I have my Episcopalian mother to thank for that. One day in first grade, a group of pals and I had just finished up a game of tag and had wandered over towards the four-square courts. The big bad second graders were giving out zip locked bags of white powder for fifty cents, and I just happened to have two quarters in my pocket. The second graders told me it was Cocaine, a new word I’d never heard of before (it’s amazing how many words a first grader learns on the playground and on the bus during his first year of public school). None of my friends had heard of it either. Cocaine was great, it was sweeter than the free sugar packets that were always laying around the tables of breakfast diners our family visited, and it turned blue when it was in my mouth. When I got home I told my mom with elation how awesome the cocaine was, and how it was only fifty cents!! Leave it to someone who’s been to law school to burst your cocaine-bubble; my mom quickly informed me that I had a bag of Kool-AID powder, and that real cocaine was not fun, did not turn blue, and cost a lot more than fifty cents. From then on, cocaine was just not that cool to me anymore.

Unlike Mormons, I do indulge in caffeine, but only in coffee, energy drinks scare the shit out of me. If it’s green and tastes like the tap water from Three Mile Island, I don’t drink it. I’ve been a coffee connoisseur since the seventh grade and could not be more ecstatic about Crawfordsville’s newest (and only-est) coffee Shop: THE BOWERY. Their greatest asset is the taste of the coffee itself, in that, it has a taste. I could not get over how here I was in a college town, and there was no decent place to get a cup of coffee. I remember actually driving to the Starbucks in Greencastle one night because I craved the long lost flavor so desperately. I recommend everyone on campus go and try for themselves.

Finishing up, I’d like to thank everyone who voted for me in my race for Student Senate and I look forward to serving the campus as a Representative for the Class of 2016. Also, here is a Christmas List:

Dear Santa,

I know that this has been a hard year for you. More and more of your icy home keeps melting away due to global climate change, your munchkin workforce has obviously been trimmer than the Christmas Tree thanks to the recession, and your favorite mass produced snackbrand, Ho-Ho-Hostess incorporated has closed it doors for good. But could you please find it in your heart to send a few gifts my way this season. First, could you improve my reading and retention rate so that the assignments take a little less time. Second, could you help me master the art of typing without looking at the keyboard before semester 2. Lastly, for Christ’s sake can you make my dad stop playing Celine Dion’s Christmas albums at full volume.

Thanks Santa,

Carl

About Carl Sonnefeld

I am a freshman at Wabash College. I have 1 mom and 1 dad, 1 brother, and 4 dogs. I enjoy football, snowboarding, talking to men and/or women. Ray Charles is my favorite musician but I enjoy all things groovy. Happiness is a matter of fresh the coffee is and how pleated my slacks are. I am a twit @Cmoneytangmasta